


Just Peachy

by Hanari502



Category: No Straight Roads (Video Game)
Genre: Feel-good, Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27628673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanari502/pseuds/Hanari502
Summary: A series of fics done in artistic collaboration with ppeachybees on twitter, who has graciously offered to be my official artist for my other fanficiton Stage Management. These stories will be random oneshots at Peachy's request.Chapter outlines:Chapter 1: Eloni finds a lost child in the Metro DistrictChapter 2: Zimelu tries to bake a cake, but he has 4 horrible brothers, and does not bake a cake
Comments: 12
Kudos: 81





	1. Eloni's Day Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ppeachybees](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ppeachybees).



> As a public figure, the public persona of a performer and the private persona of a performer are two completely different things. I hope I emphasized them well here.

The Metro District is their district, so it’s not uncommon to see 1010 walking around. They do live events all the time, along with public fan signings and social media tours, so the citizens of the district are fairly used to seeing them hanging around. Neon J less so, but the boys are always out, and they sometimes seem to be in more than one place at a time, but no one questions it anymore.

Eloni actually prefers being out of the mansion, if he’s being honest. The mansion is nice, but it’s stifling. There’s a lot of space, but he feels cooped up all the time if he can’t step outside every once in a while. So he takes walks in the lesser-known areas of the district. He can’t very well walk out of the mansion unguarded since there’s literally hundreds of fans swarming it. Security for the mansion itself is fairly high, and getting by all of the NSR bots guarding his home is annoying, but every blue moon he’s able to escape, and he loves it.

At least out here he’s not surrounded by his brothers and their _insufferable_ peer pressure.

He thinks their district is neat. It’s themed around a carnival, and there’s tons of cool glowing neon lights that match their outfits. There’s also pictures of them everywhere and, while he’s not particularly vain like Rin or Purl-Hew, he likes knowing that the citizens appreciate having them around.

What he does not like, however, is turning a corner and seeing a little girl alone, crying.

He blinks

**[ Subject: Unknown Child ]**

**[ Situational Assessment: Negative ]**

**[ Diagnosis: Unknown Child is Upset ]  
  
[ Suggestions: Interference and assistance ]**

He doesn’t have very much experience with children, but he knows that a crying little girl all by herself is definitely not great.

She doesn’t seem to notice him when he approaches, and he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. He doesn’t want to scare her. She only comes up to his mid-thigh.

“Excuse me.” he says, in as polite a voice as he can muster. “Are you okay?”   
  
She does startle a bit, but she doesn’t seem frightened when she looks at him. The only child he really has any experience with on any semi-regular basis is Yinu, but Yinu is not the kind of child to get lost in a big city and then cry about it, so he’ll have to approach this with a lot more caution.

She sniffles, dark brown braided pigtails bobbing ending in beads clacking together as her whole body hiccups. “I….lost my mama.”

Oh no. Oh no no no no.   
  
He walks forward and kneels down to her height, putting on his biggest winning smile. “Do you know where you last saw your mama?”

She shakes her head and wipes her face. “Mama said she was gonna take a picture an’ I saw a kitty an’ went to pet it but the kitty ran an’ mama was gone.”

He nods and sits down in front of her. “Okay. Okay so, she wasn’t there when you turned around? Do you remember where that was?”

She shakes her head no and sniffles. “I want mama back.”

He can’t very well leave this child alone in such a busy district. He’s not really sure how much time he has before Neon J realizes he’s missing and sends someone out to go find him, but at the very least he can help this little girl. If he can’t find her parents, he can probably take her to the nearest police station. Because that’s what people do when they find lost things? Take it to the police? He’s not entirely sure. He has GPS.

He holds out a hand to her “I’d love to help you look for your mom, can you tell me your name?”

“Shayla...” She looks at his hand, and then back up to his face. “Mama said to stay away from strangers.”

Ah. Yes. Stranger Danger. He has heard about this.

**[ Subject: Unknown Child = > Shayla ]  
  
[ Diagnosis: Lost ]**

**[ Suggestion: Help ]**

“Shayla. What a stunning name for such a stunning little girl. Shayla, if you could look over here.” He says as he points to one of the opposite buildings showcasing a rather obvious 1010 billboard. It’s the five boys posing in front of their mansion. Just a general advertisement, nothing too fancy. Certainly nothing like the one across from the roller coaster entrance. “I’m not a stranger. My name is Eloni, and I’m one of the charters for this district. Do you know what a charter is?”   
  
She shakes her head no again, but she seems transfixed by the poster.

She’s stopped crying, so he counts that as a win.

“It means that I’m the one in charge of this area.” He continues to explain, slowly. Bring his vocabulary down to a child’s level. You have to adjust how you speak occasionally depending on the kind of person you’re talking to. It’s one of his most important programs. “And it also means that it’s my job to make sure everyone here is safe and happy. I’m sure your mom misses you very much, and I want you to be able to find her. So, if you’ll let me, would you like to walk around the city with me and see if we can run into her?”

“Ten-ten!” She beams and turns around to face him. “You’re ten-ten! You’re green ten-ten!”

Eloni files that away as the two-hundred and seventy-fifth time he’s been called ‘green ten-ten’.

He smiles as she takes his hand, eager now that she recognizes him. He’s honestly so grateful because if she hadn’t, he wouldn’t know what to do. He still kind of doesn’t. “That’s right! I’m green ten-ten, but I prefer Eloni. Can you say Eloni?”

“Eloni’s gonna help me find mama!” She yells excitedly and swings her hand. “Mama listens to your music a lot. She says you’re very handsome.”

He smiles as he leads her to the main street area, a little better lit and with a few more people. Several passersby stop and stare at him, surprised that he’s there, and some others pull out their phones and start taking pictures.

Another day in the life of a celebrity. What can you do.

“Okay, so. Hmm...actually. I have a better idea.” He kneels down to her again. “I think it would be easier to see your mom if you were high up. Do you wanna ride on my shoulders?”

“Yeah!!” Shayla jumps up and down excitedly as he bends down low enough for her to scramble up onto his back, using his circular hair attachment to pull herself up. It doesn’t hurt, but he does register the tug because he _does_ have sensors there, believe it or not. She pats the circle as she adjusts herself. “I can see through your _head_.”

He holds onto her legs for stability. He’s not accustomed to giving piggy backs, but he _has_ played chicken with his brothers in the manor so it’s basically just a less-violent concept. With less people trying to hit you in the face. “You’re one of the few that gets to! Do you see her yet?”

She looks around, maybe a bit exaggeratedly, but he can’t look up because if he does she’ll go toppling backwards. “I don’t see her. She’s super pretty an’ has orange skin an’ green hair an’ a yellow dress.”   
  
“Good to know! I will keep my eye out as well.” he moves his eyes to the crowd, and blinks.

**[ Enter search parameters ]**

**[ orange skin : green hair : yellow dress ]**

**[ Search parameters acknowledged ]**

**[ Scanning ]**

**[ Scanning ]**

**[ No persons with matching descriptors found in immediate vicinity ]**

**[ Suggestion: Move to area with more people ]**

“Hmm. It doesn’t look like she’s anywhere nearby.” He says, and is _almost_ unaware of the group of fangirls taking pictures of him out his peripheral. “I have an idea. What if we go somewhere busier that might have more people to help. Like, hmm, the merry go round?”

“Merry go round!!” She bounces excitedly and its almost enough to throw him off balance. But his balance is better calibrated than that, because he’s programmed to dance, and he’d lose at chicken if his balance was off.   
  
Eloni has _never_ lost a game of chicken with his brothers.

“Then we’ll go to the merry go round!” he starts off in that direction, scanning the crowd as he walked. 

The lights in the Metro District are some of the brightest ambiance lights Vinyl City has. The district itself is home to a number of theme-park like rides and attractions. Suffice to say, it gets a lot of tourism.

**[ Suggestion: Ask about Shayla ]**

“So! Miss Shayla, if I may call you that.” He says, as she giggles. “Do you and your mom live in Metro District?”

He feels her shake her head. “Daddy works in Vinyl City so we came to see him, but Mama lives outside Vinyl City for her work. Sometimes I live with Mama and sometimes I live with Daddy, but Mama and Daddy get together a lot an’ today was a together day.”

Oh, there’s another parental figure. That helps.   
  
“Do you know what your daddy looks like?”   
  
She nods. “Daddy’s got dark blue skin an’ short hair. He’s got hair like me! An he’s got freckles an’ a fancy red jacket with stripes.”

**[ Adding to search parameters ]**

**[ Subject: Male : dark blue skin : short braided hair : red jacket with stripes ]**

**[ Scanning ]**

**[ No persons with matching descriptors found in immediate vicinity ]**

He frowns. He can’t disappoint this little girl, and her parents have to be around here somewhere. He’s gathered quite a crowd at this point, which means that word is _absolutely_ going to get out to the mansion that he’s walking around.

However….he’s a public figure. He can use his platform for good.

“Shayla, darling, would you like to do something fun?”

“Yeah!”   
  
“Would you like to put on a show with me, so we can find your parents?”

She kicks her legs excitedly. “Yesyesyesyesyes!”

He kneels back down and lifts her off his shoulders, placing her down on the ground. “We’re gonna tell all these nice people to help us, alright? And we’re gonna do it together. Does that sound good?”

“Yeah!!”

“Excellent. Follow my lead.” He turns to the crowd around him, a sizeable one made up of mostly younger women and occasional bystanders. Then again, that’s his demographic, so he’s not surprised. Neon J went on about ‘demographic importance’ once but honestly, he wasn’t paying attention.   
  
What he _was_ paying attention to, was that they all had their phones out, and he generally knew younger women to be super social-media savvy.

This might go viral. He giggles internally.

“Hello Metro District!” he says, striking a pose. He looks to his left and nods at Shayla, and she nods back, striking a _very cute_ version of his own pose. “How’s everybody doing tonight?”   
  
He receives a wave of squeals and cheers, and one lone ‘pretty alright’ from someone who thinks they’re funny.   
  
He winks at them and he swears one girl faints.

“I’m here today with my lovely assistant to send you all a very important message!” He gestures to her. “Why don’t you tell them all about it!”   
  
She scampers forward and takes a deep breath. “My name’s Shayla, an’ I lost my mom! She’s really pretty and has long green hair an’ she’s with my dad who looks like me!! An’ I’m with green ten-ten!!”

“You heard it here folks!” he strikes another pose, one she tries very hard to mirror. “Let’s help darling little Shayla find her parents. We’ll be right here for a little while, but no autographs please……”

* * *

It took fifteen minutes to find her parents. Eloni’s guess was correct. Weaponizing social media by appealing to the fans worked, and Shayla’s mother and father came rushing over after having heard the word around town. Turns out they weren’t that far away, but they didn’t expect her to run so far off.

He was also correct in assuming that a security detail drone would be literally dragging him out of the city and back into the mansion.

Needless to say, Neon J was furious.

“How could you go off on your own with no warning!” He started scolding him pretty much as soon as he stepped foot through the side-door. “Going off alone is a first-rate strategy for getting yourself killed. Or maimed. Or worse. A good soldier does not run blindly into the fray, but stays with his comrades to ensure the maximum amount of teamwork. As your commanding officer, I hereby place you under suspension for the next week, for reckless endangerment. Do I make myself clear?”

“Daaaaaaad.” he groans and slumps over. “I can handle myself. I helped a kid find her parents. I did a good thing!”

“And I’m very proud of you for doing a good thing.” he places a hand on his shoulder. “But you still went off on your own and put yourself in danger. What would have happened if you had been taken advantage of by the fans? If you had gotten yourself hurt or lost a limb? I did not know where you were from approximately 17:00 hours to 19:00 hours. Two hours of worrying. Do not do that to me again. You are grounded for a week, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

“Ugh, _fine_. But Haym sneaks out all the time to McDonalds and we can’t even _eat_.” He brushes past him into the main foyer of the mansion to see his brothers lounging on the sofas. The second he walks in, Zimelu gives him the biggest shit eating grin.

“Heard you kidnapped a child today.”

“Oh buzz off.” he walks by and flicks his mohawk as the other three laugh. “I found her in an alleyway and helped her find her parents. I was a good samaritan.”   
  
Rin holds up his phone. “Really? ‘Cause that’s not what twitter says.”

He walks over to stare at the phone, Purl-Hew craning his neck around to do the same. It’s a video of their impromptu street performance, flourishes and all.

Purl-Hew whistles. “Full public mode I see. Too bad they don’t know how much of a dork you are behind the scenes.”

“You’re a dork too!” He reaches over and tries to ruffle his blue-toned brother’s hair. “Mister ‘as long as these sunglasses are on my face i’m not allowed to smile’.”

“It’s an aesthetic choice!”

“Aww guys lighten up a bit would ya?” Haym sits up from his position lying across the couch. “At least he got to walk around the city. We’ve been cramped in here _all day_.”

Zimelu kicks his leg. “Shut up, You literally just got back from sneaking out.”   
  
“Shhh! Don’t tell Captain Dad.”   
  
“Too late, already did.” Eloni lets go of Purl-Hew’s head and fixes his own hair. "I’m going to bed, i’ll see you nerds later.”

The shouts of ‘lame’ and ‘you’re one to talk’ follows him as he leaves the foyer and goes to his ‘room’. He quickly uploads the memory of his trek into his backup storage device.

**[ Subject: Shayla ]**

**[ Diagnosis: Was Lost, Became Found ]**

**[ Keep Memory? ]**  
  
[ Y / N ]

**[ Memory will be added to the Archive labeled: Eloni ]**

**[ Nightmode activated ]**

**[ Goodnight Eloni ]**


	2. Happy Birthday?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Zimelu tries to bake a cake for Neon J's birthday, but he has four brothers and is not able to do that at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: 
> 
> basically ive seen a hc that zimelu is good at baking- so maybe he leads/teaches eloni and the rest of the brothers how to bake a cake. perhaps for neon j’s birthday? hijinks ensue
> 
> It's not *quite* teaching to bake a cake but...I hope its enjoyable!

Neon J’s birthday is coming up. Zimelu knows this. All of the boys know this. They personally don’t have ‘birth days’. They have their individual anniversary of when they ‘first’ came ‘online’, and they have their collective anniversary of the day the officially became a ‘band’, but they don’t have Birthdays. Because they’re robots, but they’re more than that really. They’re _androids_ at this point, and they do feel things. Gratefulness, for one. Thankfulness and a sense of family for another.

But if he’s being honest, the only thing Zimelu knows about birthdays is that there’s a party, and the party always has cake, and he’s the only one who knows how to bake halfway decent and he’s _not_ going to ask someone like Rin or (god forbid) Purl-Hew for assistance.

Purl-Hew is banned from the oven and he knows exactly why.

Neon J’s birthday is what brings Zimelu into the kitchen, gathering up ingredients to make a cake that….he’s not even sure his Captain can eat but he'll make it anyway. Because that’s what you do when you care about someone. You make them a cake they can’t eat.

He knows how to make a cake, so when he walks into the kitchen he expects all of his ingredients laid out where he left them the night before.

He does not expect Eloni and Haym to be in the kitchen, screwing around with the ingredients.

“Hey, No, Don’t even think about it.” Zimelu walks over and grabs a bag of flour out of Haym’s hands. One that he and Eloni were tossing back and forth.

“Awww, but we were having fun.” Haym pouts at him and picks up the jar of sugar instead. “It’s the only thing on the table we can toss around that won’t break if it falls.”

“What are you even doing with all of this anyway.” Eloni grabs the sugar from Haym and sets it down on the table, now knowing that Zimelu apparently needs it.

The red mohawked android sighs. “I’m making a birthday cake for Dad. And no, I don’t need help.”

“But Captain Dad doesn’t eat cake.” Haym offers. “He doesn’t have teeth.”

“We can’t eat the cake either.” Eloni adds “We don’t have organs.”

Zimelu sighs.

“Listen, smartasses. It’s Dad’s birthday tomorrow. Birthdays come with parties, and parties have cake. You sing and blow out candles and celebrate another year being alive. We’ve been awake and walking around for….a while...and we haven’t celebrated his birthday yet. So I’m going to bake a cake, and you two are _totally not_ going to do something stupid to mess it up, okay?”

Haym rolls his eyes “We know what birthdays are, dude. We’re not infants. We just mean like, why are you trying to celebrate Dad’s birthday in a way that he can’t actually enjoy it?”

Eloni raises his hand a bit “Why don’t we just like, make him a tiny figure of himself. He likes figures, and he’s good at making them, and he makes them of us.”

“That’s a great idea. Go do that. Somewhere else.” Zimelu walks over and starts pushing Eloni and Haym out the door, much to their distress. Haym stops him by holding out all of his limbs to make himself wider than the doorframe.

“You’re not going to kick us out because we’re smarter than that.” The yellow brother quips. “If you’re gonna make a cake you can at least let us watch.”

Eloni also throws his arms out. “Yeah and like, I personally haven’t done anything to warrant getting kicked out yet.”

“You were throwing flour!”

“You were throwing flour too!”

“What happened to the kitchen counter”

The three of them look over at the new voice to find Rin and Purl-Hew now standing in the kitchen, the latter inspecting the carton of eggs, the former leaning against the counter on his phone.

Haym squeaks, Zimelu feels dread in the pit of his...stomach...area.

“Nope.” he releases the two he was previously pushing out the door and does not watch them both fall to the ground in a tangled heap. “No, hell no. Purl-Hew, you’re banned from the oven.”

Purl-Hew raises an eyebrow and smirks “Oh, so we’re using an oven?”

“There is no we.” Zimelu deadpans and takes another breath. He doesn’t _need_ to take the breath but it’s a reset button, so he’s been told. “Listen. _I_ am making a cake for Dad’s birthday tomorrow. _You_ are not helping because the last time you were in the kitchen you broke the oven, and you don’t know how to bake. Haym and Eloni are not helping because they’ve been fuckin’ around with the ingredients. Nobody here is helping with the cake.

Rin looks up from his phone. “But General J doesn’t eat cake. He doesn’t have a mouth.”

“That’s not the point!”

“He still has organs, which means he has to eat _something_.” Purl-Hew supplies.

Eloni raises his hand again “I suggested we make him a figure of himself for it.”

“Are we throwing a party?” Haym wraps an arm around Eloni and side-eyes him. “We should get balloons.”

“Can I _please_ just bake a cake in peace.”

Rin smirks at him and grabs the flour bag. “You have four brothers, you’re not getting any peace. _Haym catch!”_

Rin tosses the bag of flour to Haym, who immediately grabs it and runs out of the room, followed by his blue and white brothers.

Eloni, however, stayed, which worried Zimelu more if he’s being honest.

“....Why didn’t you go with them?”

Eloni shrugs. “Oh uh, I’m probably just gonna start on the whole ‘make a figure of Dad-J’ thing and then get back to you?”

Zimelu grabs both of Eloni’s hands and holds them. “Thank you for being the only sane one in this family.”

“Yeah of course dude.”

He runs out of the kitchen leaving Eloni behind.

* * *

It’s keep away, plain and simple. Rin knows this, Haym and Purl-Hew know this. Zimelu better damn sure know it by now. They’re siblings, nothing is ever easy. But there’s too many of them in play right now, which will make things confusing and way less fun, so they scheme, and Rin’s in charge, because when isn’t he.

“You take the bag of flour to the west wing.” he tells Haym as they reach the living room. “Purl and I will run interference. If he wants it, he’s gonna have to fight through us to get it.”

“Don’t you think this is a bit much.” Purl Hew pipes up. “I’m all for playing a prank on our brother but this seems like a lot.”

The two others stare at him for a second….until they all burst out laughing.

“You almost had me.” Rin pats him on the shoulder. “You manage the front guard, I’ll run middle, and Haym will be our last resort. We’ll wear down his stamina until he gets too tired and then we’ll hit him with it when he least expects it.”

Haym tilts his head. “Hit him with _what_.”

“The flour, dingus.” Rin takes the bag from him. “Actually, you know what, I’ll run last, Haym goes second. Atten _tion_.”

The other two immediately snap to attention as Rin paces back and forth, cradling the flour like a child.

“Our mission today: Make Zimelu so tired of chasing this flour bag that he gives up on making the cake. Why are we making him give up making the cake? Because if he makes it it’s not going to get eaten and it’s going to get thrown away, and it’s a bad idea.”

Haym clears his throat “Permission to speak freely?”

Rin nods “Granted.”

“What if he just gets a new bag of flour.”

“He won’t.” Rin points at him. “He _won’t_ get a new bag of flour for two reasons. Reason one: he’s our brother. Reason two: He’s incapable of giving up a fight once issued. He _will_ chase after us to get this flour bag and that is a guarantee. Any other questions?”

Purl-hew raises his hand. “What do I do when I lose?”

“Go play video games or practice dance moves or something, I don’t care. Just make it as difficult as possible for him to get to the flour. How do you even know you’ll lose anyway?”

“Because he has sawblades in his arms and all I have is a staff.”

“You’ll be fine, Come on Haym.”

Purl-Hew watches the other two sprint down the hall and he sighs. If he’s being honest with himself, he would have liked to try baking a cake. Last time he was in the kitchen it didn’t go well...but that doesn’t mean it won’t go well this time. So what if he’s not very good at cooking. They’re all good at _something_ individually. Maybe he just hasn't found the thing he’s good at cooking yet. And he _knows_ he doesn’t necessarily _have_ to cook since they don’t eat traditionally, but he doesn’t want to be a one-trick performance pony the whole time he’s conscious either. He sighs and waits for his brother, but he doesn’t have to wait long. Zimelu, bright red apron hanging off of him, comes walking into the room, and he just looks annoyed if Purl-Hew’s being honest.

“Hey.” He nods at the wannabe-chef. “You know we’re not gonna make this easy for you.”

“I just wanted to bake.” Zimelu brings out the blade-saws hidden away in his arms. A tactical upgrade, courtesy of Neon J. At the end of the day they are still soldiers, with a purpose. “I just wanted to make a cake so we could celebrate Dad’s birthday like a regular family, but nooooo. I can’t have that.”

Purl-Hew shrugs and pops both staff-halves out of his legs, connecting them and twirling it. “Mine’s bigger.”

"Ha-ha, very funny. Have at thee, nerd."

* * *

They were made for war, initially. Way back in the day they were made to fight on the frontlines, dish out orders and commands, mobilize when necessary. They were created to be soldiers, but there’s only 5 of them now. Sure, Neon J has a factory that can spit them out like hotcakes, but their individual personalities are always static, changing only as much as they allow themselves to. Their bodies may be replaced, but their minds are always backed up into Neon J’s personal database.

So, it makes sense that Rin, the one created to be in charge, was the last one Zimelu had to go through to get this flour bag.

And yeah, maybe it was taking it a bit too far, but all’s fair in love and war.

He knew the other two would be defeated. Zimelu had the highest direct combat capabilities in the family, not to mention his blade-saws would undoubtedly cut through whatever the other two would throw at him. There’s no doubt that they’d lose a limb or two, but it’s fine. They can be replaced.

What matters most is how much they can aggravate Zimelu.

He’s not surprised when he gets to him, oh no. Instead he mocks him by cradling the flour sack in his arms like a newborn child.

“It has your eyes~” He chides him.

Zimelu huffs, blades still brandished. His red apron now has several cuts and scorch marks in it. “I hope you’re proud of yourself.”

Rin smiles. “Oh I am. Having fun yet?”

He raises one of the blades at him. “Give me the bag, Rin.”

“Or what?”  
  
“Or I’ll cut you in half, what’s it look like?”

“Sounds a little violent.” He twirls the flour bag. “Isn’t Purl-Hew supposed to be the risk-taker?”

“Purl’s currently on the floor of the living room, missing a hand, because he tripped into my sawblade.” He falls into a fighting stance. “Now, I will ask you nicely, even though I know it won’t work, because you’re a horrible brother and you listen to no one, but give me the bag of flour.”

“I’m stunned you haven’t just gone out and bought a new one.” He tosses the flour bag up. “But hey, if you want the flour so badly, go get it!”

Rin throws the flour at Zimelu and watches as he scrambles to put away his sawblades. Once he catches it, however, Rin opens fire with his wrist laser and hits the flour bag.

The flour

Goes

_Everywhere_

“.....”

“.....”

“.....”

“You should have dodged it.”

“I’m going to kill you.”

_**“TROOPS! ATTENTION!”** _

They both immediately stiffen to attention as Neon J comes down the hallway holding Purl-Hew’s severed arm. He holds it out to them. “ _What_ is the _meaning_ of this?”

Neither of them speak, or move, or do anything other than stand at full attention. Neon J sighs.

“At ease. Now, why am I receiving diagnostic alerts that Blue is missing an arm, and Yellow’s chest has caved in and damaged one of his motors?”

“I just wanted to bake a cake!” Zimelu throws his hands up. “I wanted to bake a cake for your birthday, but today was a bad day, and now i’m covered in flour.”

“To be fair, I think it’s a good look on you.” Rin shoots at him, and turns to Neon J, saluting. “General. Haym, Purl-Hew and I were applying group tactical warfare strategies against Zimelu as interference. I regret to inform you that while we have been badly damaged by the attack, the result was a sound victory, as evidenced by Zimelu covered in flour.”

“See, he says this, but he just wanted to make me miserable.” Zimelu shoots back while trying to wipe the flour off of himself.

Neon J doesn’t reply right away, instead he seems to...short out? He coughs and puts both hands behind his back. “Ah. Yes. Group warfare strategies. I am...proud of you for upholding your diligence when it comes to training, soldiers. However...morale is also an important part of war, and keeping up one’s morale is paramount to planning a divisive victory strategy…………you were going to make me a cake?”

Zimelu puts a hand behind his head. “Yeah, well...I _was_ going to make you a cake, because we haven’t really celebrated your birthday as a normal thing before. I wanted to have it ready by tomorrow so I could surprise you but _he_ happened.” he points at Rin, who just shrugs.

“Hey man, you did it to yourself. You could have asked us to help but _noooo_. You had to be _secretive_ about it. Just because Purl’s banned from the oven doesn’t mean the rest of us have to be.” He turns to Neon J. “My apologies, General, for this poor show of discipline. It won’t happen again.”

“I would hope it doesn’t! At least, not in the mansion.” Neon J looks down at the severed arm in his hand. “Well….now I have to go repair your brothers. And get flour out of you. White, you are dismissed. Red, you are to follow me for repairs.”

“Yes Dad.” Zimelu hangs his head and starts following Neon J, turning around behind him to give his brother the middle finger.


End file.
